


Moonlight In Your Hands

by larryandgaystuff (cnd8544)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Girl Direction, Pining, Short and sweet and to the point, gender swap, minor injury with brief mention of blood, you know how it goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:39:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cnd8544/pseuds/larryandgaystuff
Summary: The sun and the moon. The tide and the shore.A girl and her best friend. A hope for something more.





	Moonlight In Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haloeverlasting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloeverlasting/gifts).



> Story inspired by Zayn's 'Let Me.' Titled inspired by Ariana's 'Moonlight.' I've been having a moment, y'all.
> 
> So this is my first past-tense fic, first purely Ziam fic, AND first girl!direction fic. I'm sorry it's so short, but I'm very proud of it, so who knows? I could come back to it someday. This is a special one. I hope you love it. I hope it can mean something to you.
> 
> As always, a huge thank you to my wonderful betas, cheerleaders, and friends, [Day](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrystanslouis/pseuds/harrystanslouis/works) and [Shannon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/secretswekeepxx/pseuds/secretswekeepxx/works).
> 
> This work is dedicated to my beautiful Blue and all of her magic. <3

_Pleaseee,_ Zayn had begged. _Please, Li! C’mon, it’ll be awesome. It’s proper posh, I’m telling ya._

Liam had looked at her from her spot on her bed, coffee eyes pinpoints of focused light creating some feeling of vulnerability. Any time Liam looked at her like that, she felt naked suddenly, like every defense had been stripped away, every thread of fabric covering her breast unraveled, every stitch holding together her bruised and still stupidly hopeful heart pulling to the point of discomfort.

This time, though, there had been a special kind of glimmer in Liam’s eyes, the kind that only ever shone through when she allowed herself the joy of mischief. Usually after a heckling from her best mate. And Zayn couldn’t help but push it just a little further.

She’d taken a step closer, then another, and when Liam looked up at her, nervous laughter nearly silent on her shaky breath, she’d lain down beside her. She hadn’t had to wait for more than a few seconds before Liam met her, their faces too close, not quite at opposite ends of the pillow they shared.

Liam smiled, one blush-pink cheek smushed against the pillow. _What about school?_

Zayn let a smirk grow on her lips, a sassy, playful display to hide the fluttering, achy mess that was her heart. Wishing desperately for a chance, just _one_ chance, she dared, _What about it?_

Of course, they couldn’t simply ignore the responsibilities of real life. During their last week in London, Zayn rushed to finish an art portfolio more quickly than she’d planned to before another type of inspiration had struck her, one that led her to whisk her best friend away on a less-than subtle romantic holiday. Liam stayed up late too many nights in a row to write too many papers about too many things Zayn could never care about. She only cared about the way Liam’s face lit up when she talked about her studies, her own heart beating wildly in her chest.

But Liam had moved closer when Zayn had dared to dare her, the softest sound of her cheek brushing against her stolen pillow. _What about it?_ she had whispered, the smooth quality of her voice surprising to her own ears, thunder roaring over the quiet question. Liam hadn’t answered with words, but hid her smile in the dip between Zayn’s neck and shoulder and nodded, oblivious to the staticky heat racing through Zayn’s body, directly to the place where Liam touched her.

She did the same on the plane, her head dropping ever so slightly, minute-by-minute, until her long, wavy hair draped over Zayn’s chest, soft strands moving with the rhythm of unsure breathing. Each inhale was a fight not to rest against Liam’s head, to escape into the coconut breeze promised on her shampoo bottle. Zayn couldn’t count how many times she’d read those words, standing in Liam’s shower, trying her hardest to focus on anything but the fleeting touches that lingered on her skin and made her throb between her legs. The water was never hot enough to make her feel clean, even after the desire settled to a dull ache, one to cry over after the touch of her own fingers and the dream of a girl who could never be hers left her boneless under a duvet never wrinkled by lovemaking.

Liam slept, and Zayn slowly let go of the week behind them as they passed sparse, lonely clouds, the sky bright and blue and promising.The heat of the island was a gift after hours in a stuffy, air-conditioned cabin, and when Zayn glanced over to notice the humidity sticking wispy curls to the nape of Liam’s neck, all she wanted was to reach out, to stretch to her, to take her hand as they began their journey to their little piece of paradise.

Liam didn’t know it, but Zayn had spent months planning for this. She hadn’t won a contest, there had been no raffle. There had only ever been the desperate attempt to repair an unrequited love, to make Liam finally _see._

“What should we do first?” Liam chirped as they tossed their bags onto the neatly-made hotel bed, pulling Zayn from her daydreams. “I think I feel like a dip!”

Zayn watched as Liam threw herself back onto the bed, narrowly missing her overstuffed duffel. A soft giggle escaped her lips, “You look ready for a nap.”

Liam looked up at her with bright eyes and a soft smile. “I’m plenty rested, thanks to your very comfortable shoulder.”

Zayn dug into her own overnight bag, pulling out her favorite swimsuit and a loose vest, the one that always had Liam calling her a “cute tomboy,” and averted her eyes as Liam stood and undressed. She let her gaze wander when she could see in her peripheral vision that Liam had tied up her top. She could look now, but it still felt predatory, like it was more skin than she should have been allowed to see. Shame prickled at her scalp, her cheeks hot and surely pink, and she turned away.

But it didn’t remove the image from her mind. It didn’t take away the desire to see every part of her. Looking away to close her eyes at night never stopped the dreams from coming. And they lingered, her thoughts heavy and desperate in the light of the sun until it set once more. A cruel cycle of want that haunted her night and day.

“Ready?” Liam asked, so unaware of the suffering behind Zayn’s eyes, always watching her, always hiding the truth behind amber gold.

Zayn nodded and quickly changed into her suit, unsure and uneasy over the tremor of some unknown feeling settling over her at the total lack of concern on the other side of the room. She wanted Liam to look at her, or to _want_ to. But as always, Liam was distracted if not entirely uninterested.

The ocean rolled toward the shore, a blue so profound Zayn knew she’d never find its color manufactured back in London. She wouldn’t ever be able to recreate this on canvas or the one wall Liam assigned to her and her art when they first moved in together.

The sun beat down on the sand and the tops of their shoulders, and the only thought in Zayn’s mind when Liam raced toward the water, a bright laugh trailing behind her, was of the way her hair always turned blonde in the summer. A little girl had asked her once, near the end of August when her soft waves were kissed golden by sunshine, if she was, in fact, Cinderella. And of course, being the absolute summer rose that she is, Liam played along, complimenting the girl’s pretty smile, reminding her to believe in her dreams and always be kind.

That was the moment Zayn fell in love with her. Or maybe she had loved her already and that moment was simply one of realization, of awakening. But either way, something changed that day. And Liam’s hair would lighten again soon, but she was _always_ Cinderella. Soft and sweet and beautiful. And even more because she was brave and smart as a whip and so funny and _real._ She was full of wonder and sunshine and every good thing. Zayn knew she’d never stood a chance. Some part of her had always known she was going to fall for her. She’d never even tried not to.

Liam turned back to find her, to reach out to where Zayn was walking into the shallow waves colliding with the stronger ones Liam had plunged into headfirst. Liam’s look of panic piercing her from across the water was Zayn’s second clue that something was wrong. The first was a sharp jolt of pain running from the bottom of her foot to the back of her knee.

She went down, her knee giving out violently, Liam’s worried expression the last thing she saw before the water rushed over her head where she’d waded deeper. A lifetime passed before cold hands gripped her sides, and she sputtered out water and fear and shallow breaths as Liam held her as still as the waves would allow.

Over the roar of the ocean and the static in her ears, she could hear Liam’s voice, higher than usual and tight with panic. “...okay?! Z!” Her foot ached, her head pounding as she felt the warmth of fresh blood mixing with the salt water against her broken skin. “Can you hear me?”

Zayn looked up at her, vision blurred and too bright in some places. She realized slowly that Liam was holding her, that Liam carried her more than the water.

“Zayn…” Liam said again, her pleas quieter now that they were so close, now that Zayn was safely in her arms.

“M’okay,” she breathed, in a daze. “Cut my foot.”

Liam nodded slowly, her brows furrowed. Drops of water dancing down her nose, falling from her cheekbones, she spoke in a comforting tone as she moved against the tide, carrying Zayn with strong arms even as she stepped onto the white sand beach.

The sun began to fall in the sky as they made their perilous journey back to their room, the light dimming their first day of what was supposed to be a magical escape. Liam was so excited to swim in the ocean, Zayn to watch her be so free, and now she’d gone and mucked it all up by stepping on a fucking rock before she’d even gotten her hair wet.

Liam set Zayn on the bed tenderly, her arms, shaky, no doubt from exertion, sliding out from under Zayn’s wet, sandy legs. Zayn swallowed the shiver that always came as an answer to her touch. “We’ll ruin the duvet,” she said. She didn’t really know why she said it. It wasn’t what seemed important in the moment, with Liam gazing at her in that special way she sometimes did. At least, it felt special. The words just fell out of her mouth. A distraction, perhaps. A defense.

Liam ignored it anyway, asking if she would be okay alone for a few minutes while she ran to the lobby to find a first-aid kit. Zayn nodded, only half-aware of the world outside of the feeling of gentle fingers pushing her tangled, wet hair from her face, the way Liam’s thumb brushed over her ear ever so fleetingly before she pulled away.

Liam was back before Zayn could have ever hoped to process the touch, the strange, shimmering quality of the air around them, the softness in Liam’s voice that was somehow both new and totally normal. She couldn’t make sense of any of it.

“This fucking hotel doesn’t have the medicine you need,” she said, clearly annoyed, yanking Zayn from her thoughts. “Said we’ll have to go into town tomorrow. There’s a market or summat.” She moved toward the bed, and Zayn held her breath as she came closer, as her knee pressed against the duvet, as her hand settled over Zayn’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look really out of it.”

Zayn looked up at her, breath caught in her throat, body cold everywhere but the place Liam touched her. “Yeah, I’m…” she started. “I’m fine, just a bit freaked.”

“Does it hurt?” Liam asked, her hand moving down Zayn’s arm.

Zayn nodded noncommittally, and Liam moved closer, pressing her leg against Zayn’s. Zayn stood abruptly, adrenaline and confusion and want and need and shame bringing her to her feet, the mess of emotions distracting her from focusing her weight on her uninjured foot. Everything was suddenly too much. The air was too heavy and the room was too dark and the girl touching her was too electric. “Gonna shower,” she mumbled. “Need to clean it, at least.”

She didn’t turn back to see Liam’s reaction when she stayed silent, just shut herself away and got to work scrubbing the blood from her foot and the bruise from her heart.

Her head cleared with the steam of the warm shower, and she thought she might be able to control the wild drumming of her heart, but the confidence only lasted a moment. Wrapped in a luxurious, ivory towel far nicer than any she’d ever owned, she stepped out of the fog and into the cool room.

Liam, again, wasn’t watching her, but it was different this time. She stood outside, her back to Zayn, her arms resting against the balcony railing. Her hair was beginning to dry in the breeze, and Zayn could see from her vantage point the fine fly-aways that moved against heavier curls still wet with the memory of the ocean.

The sun had given way to the moon as she’d hidden herself away, and Liam had lain out nightclothes for herself. Zayn quickly slipped into a pair of boxer shorts and a loose t-shirt and stepped closer.

Liam didn’t seem to hear her, didn’t seem to be aware that she was even in the room. Zayn wasn’t sure if it was more the desire to protect Liam’s peace that kept her from stepping out onto the balcony, or if it was some other instinct she couldn’t quite name. Three steps away, and so far out of reach.

She was always just out of reach.

She watched her hair move in the wind. Watched the muscles of her back expand with every easy breath. Watched her just...be. She looked like a angel, a water spirit surveying all that was hers, protecting something. A quiet, constant, benevolent presence.

The spell broke when Liam turned, her brows lifting in surprise. “Oh,” she breathed. “I didn’t hear you come out.”

Zayn had no response. Nothing would have sounded right anyway. She just looked at her, that desperate hope always beating in her heart, tingling in her hands, wishing to touch.

Liam picked up her clothes lying on the bed, and Zayn still couldn’t find the words. “I guess I’ll…” she paused, then motioned toward the loo. “I’ll be quick. We can watch something after. If you want.”

Her tone was odd. The air was so thin, and Zayn knew it couldn’t have been as cold as it felt. She crawled under the duvet and waited. For what? Liam was acting so strange, and no possible explanation Zayn tried to formulate in her mind was exactly right.

This was uncharted territory. And while that hope would probably never go away, tonight, fear was right there beside it. She felt so out of her depth. Every time she let herself begin to believe that this was the start of what she’d wanted for so long, some part of her shut it down before panic could transform into excitement.

The lack of certainty about what Liam’s soft words and worried smile and distracted gaze meant made Zayn feel like she was spinning, like those rough waves were still crashing over her head. Liam’s warm eyes visible through the cool grey of the ocean were the only thing keeping air in her lungs. And when Liam spoke, her breath rushed out, bubbles floating to the surface as she struggled beneath.

She settled herself beneath the sheets and focused on breathing while she could. And on a particularly heavy exhale, Liam slipped under the duvet beside her.

Zayn’s gaze caught on her skin, pale but for the soft pink effect of hot water. Zayn wondered if she would finally achieve her lifelong goal of getting that golden tan she’d always dreamed of or if she’d only burn, this summer like all the ones before it. Her wet hair looked darker than those wispy curls had out on the balcony. Zayn’s heart beat twice thinking of the freckles that would come after a few days on the beach. There were already a few just on the bridge of her nose, stars peppering her perfect skin just for the fun of it, like they’d come out to play.

She could tell Liam was looking back at her, watching her explore, but she kept her eyes distracted, dancing across everything but those dark eyes she was always in danger of falling into.

“You okay?” Liam asked, just when the silence began to feel too charged. Zayn nodded. “Your foot?”

“Hurts,” Zayn mumbled, her lips catching on the smooth material of her pillowcase. She really was tired. The day had been so long, her mind busy since morning, her heart racing since Liam had rested her head against her shoulder on the plane. Even before.

“We’ll go into town in the morning to get some medicine,” Liam murmured. Zayn found her gaze before closing her eyes, begging sleep to take her. It wasn’t fair, the way Liam was looking at her like she belonged to her at all.

Dreams began to take shape behind her eyelids, and Liam’s voice started to fade. And Zayn fell asleep as she always did, with a prayer on her lips and an ache in her heart.

***

Morning came as it did too often with Zayn’s eyes fluttering open in the bright new light to discover that her all-consuming desire for the girl she fell asleep with simply couldn’t be tamed under the cloak of night. She’d long ago perfected the act of quickly but gently removing herself from Liam’s body, detaching her lips from Liam’s sleep-warm skin, pretending they’d never been there, pretending she’d never tasted the salty sweetness of her.

Her arm wasn’t moving. In the haziness of half-sleep, it was all very difficult to make sense of. Then confusion lifted, and the most wonderfully horrific truth made itself known.

Liam clung to her arm, in all her shimmery morning beauty. Her hair was tousled in a perfect mess, the kind of mess that most people only believe exists in movies, on a girl-next-door heroine who achieved the look only after hours in a makeup chair behind the scenes. Zayn knew better. She’d seen Liam like this so many times, longed for so many more.

Zayn knew what Liam looked like when she was tired, worn to the bone. She knew the pattern of the wrinkles on her forehead when she was deep in concentration. She’d memorized the rhythm of the quiver of her lips in anger, knew only the fuller bottom one did so when she was close to tears. She could play her laugh on piano keys. And she knew how angelic she looked upon waking.

It was as if the moonlight came through the window in the night hours only to caress her, as if such light belonged to her, as if it was overjoyed to be with her again. In the morning, she always seemed to glow.

With her arm still draped over Liam’s shoulder, her wrist still pinned to Liam’s breast, Zayn found herself reminiscing on the first morning she ever woke pressed against her best friend, yearning to roll her over, to gaze at her and to have Liam’s eyes on her in return. An illicit thrill ran down her spine, Liam’s warmth against her chest such a contrast. That morning she’d determined the reason for the special glow that never seemed to want to leave Liam until well past dawn. The moon loved her, and so did Zayn.

Her dream was cut short when Liam sniffled and stretched her legs out under the duvet, making that adorable sound she always made when she woke up easily and fully rested, trading the moon for the sun.

Zayn’s heart broke. She tried in vain to gather the pieces and put herself back together before slumber lifted from Liam’s eyes and she realized what she was doing, before she took this away and put reality back in its place.

“G’morning,” Zayn heard instead, a soft murmur behind hotel sheets.

“Hi,” Zayn said, almost a whisper, heart hammering in her chest, waiting, knowing this would be gone soon.

Liam let go of her hand, but it wasn’t how Zayn had imagined. She moved slowly, turning sleepily in Zayn’s arms. Her eyes were bright even in shadow, sunlight resting over her silhouette as it streamed in behind her. She smiled. “Sleep well?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

Zayn nodded, so cautious not to break the spell. “You?”

Liam nodded once, some kind of wonderful in her eyes. “We should get up. Go into town for something for your foot. Don’t want it to get infected.”

Zayn let her arm fall from Liam’s side, and didn’t stop to wonder when Liam’s hand grazed her back when she turned and slipped out of bed.

The sun shone, bright and hot, but there was a gentle breeze in their hair as they wandered the sandy paths and cobbled lanes of the small village nearest their resort. Liam’s hand found hers more than once or twice, and Zayn lost her breath each time it happened, each time she let herself, just for a brief moment, believe in that wild fantasy.

Finding a small medical supply shop, Liam promptly got to work finding exactly what Zayn required, covering her foot with some smelly cream and wrapping it with a bandage as Zayn gazed down at her, sat on old wooden bench soaking up the sun.

That was done, and honestly, Zayn couldn’t argue that it didn’t feel phenomenally better. And Liam seemed happy. Whether it was over completing this first-aid mission or the clear ocean and blue sky always in their peripheral, Zayn didn’t know. They stopped at a fountain, it’s mosaic tiles nearly completely covered with wishes in the form of coins from around the world, and Zayn tossed in a wish of her own, that Liam’s smile was for her, because of her.

Liam refused to share her own wish, citing that excuse as old as time. “It won’t come true,” she said, her voice a tempting song over the water’s dripping melody.

Zayn took a risk when Liam pulled her into a small building off the path they strolled, sea glass windows and a packed dirt floor. Gems of every color imaginable sparkled in their cases, and Liam took turns gazing at her favorites and speaking with the shop owner. She was a small woman with dark eyes and olive skin, her long black hair braided in an unusual pattern over her shoulder. And she was completely and utterly enraptured by Liam.

Zayn couldn’t help but smile, a quite giggle escaping her lips. Everyone fell in love with Liam. It was impossible not to. She listened as the woman described a local delicacy Liam would undoubtedly beg to try for dinner one night, watched as a wallflower might as Liam admired a thin, sheer scarf the woman had lain aside.

She caught the eye of a young man, maybe even still a boy, who slipped behind the counter, and waved him over silently. Liam was properly distracted by her new friend and her beautiful offerings, and Zayn wished to keep it that way. Only after hiding a small paper box in her bag did she make her way over to Liam to be introduced to the shop owner and shown the truly beautiful material of the scarf Liam had purchased.

They said goodbye and let the sun warm them as they continued further into the village, the box burning through her bag and her jeans, prickling at her leg, teasing, begging for attention.

A shack with a hand-painted sign advertising ice cream was their next stop, Liam practically bouncing the rest of the way once her eyes lit up with excitement. Two vanilla cones, just like always. _That’s so basic,_ Zayn had said the first time Liam had ever ordered them ice cream, a special tradition now. And Liam had smiled that mischievously innocent smile that no one else could ever quite pull off and said, _What’s wrong with that?_

There were no benches this far off, but soft, windblown grass on either side of a dirt path. It was natural and raw, a pure piece of earth. It almost seemed as if they were the first to touch the ground as they folded their legs and rested upon it.

Zayn tried to focus on her ice cream. It seemed to melt faster every time Liam’s knee grazed her own, the heat of the summer sun so mild compared to the scorching touch. Zayn wanted to kiss her so badly, to lick the melted vanilla from her lips, to clean the smear of cream from her cheek with her thumb, to let it rest there as she moved closer.

She could look nowhere else. And after a long moment, Liam’s eyes found hers. They darted down for the briefest of seconds, an incomplete thought. But it was enough. Somehow it was enough to have Zayn believing that maybe Liam could want it, too, and taking this breathtaking chance was the only way to ever find out. The fear was no longer stronger than the longing that had consumed her for what felt like a lifetime.

She leaned forward, eyes locked on Liam’s, growing wider, but in a calm sort of surprise. She could almost taste her, would soon know what she tasted like under the sweetness of vanilla ice cream, what lay beneath.

That’s when she heard the ringing of a tinny bell, a frantic, unwelcome sound in the quiet early afternoon. Liam came closer, but it was different, like a sudden storm. The moment was confusingly quick, and before she’d really been able to process anything at all, she found herself spread out on her back in the grass, Liam pressed against her, sticky with ice cream. They were both heaving from a rush of panicked adrenaline, and after a moment of returned calm, Liam laughed. Giggles turned into a full belly laugh as she toppled to the ground beside Zayn, and she laid out with her limbs extended in every direction like a sea star.

Brushing off the electricity that clung to her from the close proximity and the mad idea of what she was about to do, Zayn sat up just in time to see a man riding off down the path they’d been traveling, bicycle kicking up dust, bell ringing to warn future victims of his recklessness.

Liam was still laughing, and Zayn was powerless to stop her own disbelief and nervous happiness from turning into laughter of her own. She fell across Liam’s body to be rocked by her amusement, smearing their spilled ice cream even more, less than concerned about her constant effort not to touch. She _wanted_ to touch. She wanted to touch and be touched and feel this unbridled happiness. For _once,_ she let herself just be. And Liam didn’t pull away.

When the moment passed and laughter faded into tired breathing and the occasional, leftover giggle, Liam asked on a tight breath, perhaps trying to keep another round at bay, “How many times am I going to have to save you this week?”

Zayn breathed out a silent chuckle, stomach sore from the upset and subsequent work out. She turned her head, facing Liam across the grass where she’d fallen. Liam was already gazing at her. “My hero,” she sang breathlessly, bringing her hands to her heart.

They picked themselves up, covered in vanilla ice cream, grass and sand sticking to any exposed skin, and made their way back to the hotel. They’d covered enough ground on their journey that the sun was beginning to hide behind the ocean by the time they arrived.

“Wanna take a bath in the ocean?” Liam asked. She was smiling, her voice quiet. “Wash off the mess you made?” She reached for Zayn’s hand and held on more tightly than she needed to. She had to know Zayn would say yes. Zayn rarely ever didn’t do anything and everything Liam asked of her.

They stripped to the swimsuits they wore beneath their street clothes and left the rest of their belongings far enough up the beach to avoid a tidal disaster. The ocean was cool and clean and refreshing against their dirty, sun-touched skin, and Liam’s pure joy was a sight to behold. Zayn watched as she splashed around in the waves, like she often imagined she did as a little girl, before she ever knew such a sweet creature existed. Before she ever knew what addictive suffering lay ahead.

The cold water cleansed them. Zayn’s love only became more evident as night covered everything the moon couldn’t quite reach. Liam shone like the one true thing, her limbs pale even with her two-day tan, glistening as ocean clung to her skin, followed her wherever she wished to go. She was like a siren, beautiful and dangerous and wholly untouchable.

But Zayn _could_ touch her. Liam had held her to her breast through the night, kept her there as the sun peeked from behind hotel curtains. Liam had leaned in, ice cream melting, sliding down its cone and turning to a sticky puddle in her hand. She had cared for her when she was hurt. She’d cared for her for years, since the day they met.

Zayn swam to her, swimming quietly while her heart slammed against her lungs so loudly she had no idea how Liam hadn’t heard it and turned to watch her approach. She sent a prayer up to the stars, some kind of desperate plea to whomever or whatever could be watching..

“Li,” she murmured, Liam turning to find herself in Zayn’s arms where she’d swam up behind her. Liam gazed at her, eyes wide and gleaming in the moonlight reflecting off of the rippled water.

“Z,” Liam replied, voice cracking on the drop. Her eyes fell to Zayn’s lips again, just as they’d done before.

And Zayn kissed her.

Her lips were salty and warm amidst the dark cool water. Her skin was chilled, and Zayn hoped beyond hope that the goosepimples running up her arms where she gathered the courage to touch her was a result of the kiss, of her touch. She kissed her back, from the moment their lips touched, after that brief interval of closeness and hesitation, Liam kissed her back.

Waves rocked against them, a gentle grounding. Liam moved back when a particularly strong one washed over their shoulders, but she stayed close, her hands planted on Zayn’s hips, her lips still close enough to taste.

There was no one else in the water to disturb their nervous silence with rackous, distracting laughter or joyful shrills. The quiet sat between them unmoved, until Liam said on a whisper, pressing her forehead against Zayn’s, “I’m so glad I didn’t tell you.”

Those vague words were unexpected, and Zayn’s face morphed into an expression of confusion that had Liam giggling. “Tell me what?” she asked, tempted to laugh just from the beauty of it all.

Liam leaned forward and kissed her once more, and Zayn only stayed standing with the help of a strong grip on her arm. They gazed at one another. “My wish,” she said, smiling that big Liam smile Zayn loved so much. “I wanted it to come true so badly. And it did.”

A giggle escaped Zayn’s throat at their utter ridiculousness. “Y’know if you would’ve told me, I would’ve kissed you then. It still would’ve come true.”

Liam slipped her arms around Zayn’s neck and kissed her again, such an impossible dream. “Couldn’t risk it.”

Zayn remembered, the entire walk up through the sand to their room, the way she could feel Liam’s sweet smile against her lips when she kissed her. Her heart beat with the rhythm of Liam’s lips moving against her own, gentle and steady, just like the waves that carried them to shore.

They took a few minutes to enjoy the chill of the air conditioning before going their separate ways to get ready for bed. When Zayn came out of the bathroom, injured foot freshly wrapped, she couldn’t believe, for the hundredth time, what was happening.

Liam stood leaning against the balcony railing, damp, wispy curls dancing in the wind. The scene was familiar, but the girl was different. She looked stronger, steadier. Zayn hadn’t noticed last night, but picturing it back now, she’d seemed to be looking for something. Now she only seemed to be waiting for something she knew was hers. Someone.

The balcony was covered in fine white linens, the duvet removed from the bed, so inviting outside where the breeze blew gently. Liam had tossed pillows down and made a new bed. Zayn couldn’t help but smile at the innocent romance of it all, the thought of sleeping under the stars, falling asleep to the sound of the ocean.

She’d feared for just a moment, when she was tucked away in the loo, that maybe the magic would be gone by the time she reached her again, that the ocean made it possible and standing on dry land would somehow change everything. But Liam had done all of this in some kind of hope like Zayn had felt for far too long. And in that moment, Zayn knew this magic would never fade.

She stopped at the stripped bed and found the small box she’d hidden all day, keeping her secret for just a few moments more as she wandered out onto the balcony.

Liam turned, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Hi,” she murmured.

“Hey,” Zayn said, gripping the box, her own mischievous smile giving her away. “I got you something.”

“Oh yeah?” Liam stepped closer, surprise in her eyes and on her blushing cheeks.

Zayn nodded and opened her hand, fingers curling against Liam’s as she took it, her touch tender, eager yet patient.

She opened the box, and she lit up from the inside, her smile growing wide, teeth glistening in the dim light. “You’re sneaky,” she said, exhaling a quiet, private giggle. “They’re beautiful.”

Zayn focused on breathing as Liam looked up at her with bright eyes. “They’re moonstones,” she managed. “Do you like them?”

Liam took the earrings out of their box one at a time and put them on, smiling all the while. “I love them.” The moment stretched out between them. “You really were going to kiss me today, weren’t you? Even if I didn’t wish for it? Or my wish didn’t come true?”

Zayn closed the distance between them, offering her lips as an answer. The night air was cool and smelled of salt water and sunscreen and desperate hope renewed. And she made a silent promise. Liam would never have to wish to be kissed again.

She kissed her, and Liam kissed her back. And the smile on her face was proof when Zayn finally spoke the words she’d held in her heart for a lifetime. “We have our own kind of magic.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Your comments here and tags on my fic posts honestly keep me going, so please come talk to me about fic or music or Louis' freckle constellation or Harry's love handles. Let's be friends!
> 
> P.S. You can find the post for this fic [here](http://larryandgaystuff.tumblr.com/post/178921367449/moonlight-in-your-hands-by-larryandgaystuff-the) if you enjoyed it and are feeling so kind as to share. I'm eternally grateful for the kindness all of you show me. Thank you <3


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